Daddy's Precious Little Girl

Saturday News

Franklin's POV

I adjusted the strap of Marcy's bag on my shoulder as we walked toward Lana and Markie's dorm. Marcy clutched my hand tightly, her little fingers wrapped around mine as she skipped along beside me.

"Why can't I come with you, Daddy?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity and just a touch of worry.

I glanced down at her, offering a reassuring smile. "The Head Mistress wants to talk to me about some boring, grown-up stuff," I said lightly. "But I thought you might like to play with Markie for a bit while I'm gone."

Her face lit up at the mention of Markie, and she squeezed my hand. "Can we play superheroes?"

I chuckled, grateful for the distraction. "I'm sure Markie will love that idea."

When we reached Lana's door, I knocked gently, and it wasn't long before Lana opened it, Markie peeking out from behind her with a big grin.

"Come on in!" Lana said warmly, stepping aside to let us in.

Marcy immediately darted toward Markie, the two of them launching into an animated discussion about their superhero game.

I handed Marcy's bag to Lana. "Thanks for watching her," I said.

Lana waved me off with a grin. "Anytime. Besides, these two could use some extra energy burned off."

I knelt down beside Marcy, brushing a stray curl away from her face. "I'll be back soon, alright?"

She nodded, throwing her arms around my neck in a quick hug. "Okay, Daddy."

"Be good," I said, kissing the top of her head before standing up.

As I turned to leave, Lana gave me a curious look. "Everything okay?"

"Not sure yet," I admitted. "The Head Mistress asked to see me. Alone."

Lana raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, good luck," she said.

I nodded, offering a quick thanks before heading out. My thoughts swirled as I made my way to the Head Mistress's office.

The re-test on Tuesday had gone smoothly—or at least I thought it had. Now, though, with this unexpected summons, I couldn't shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.

The soft click of the door closing behind me barely registered as I stepped into the Head Mistress's office. She was seated behind her desk, her eyes focused on a document in front of her. Her pen moved with precision as she made a note, her posture as composed and deliberate as ever.

I waited silently, unsure if I should speak, but before I could decide, she glanced up and smiled. "Ah, Mr. Falkner. Please, have a seat."

I obeyed, lowering myself into the chair across from her desk. My hands rested on my thighs, though I could feel the tension in my shoulders.

"Thank you for coming," she began, folding her hands neatly atop the desk. "Before we proceed, I want to commend you for reaching out regarding your classification results. It is never an easy thing to question what you've been told, especially when it concerns something as foundational as your role here."

Her words were calm but firm, and I nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"It's important to understand," she continued, "that the testing process is not infallible. On rare occasions, errors do occur, and when a student brings forward genuine concerns, it is our duty to investigate immediately."

I exhaled softly, feeling a weight lift from my chest. "Thank you for taking it seriously," I said, my voice low but sincere.

"Of course," she said with a small nod. "Now, let's get to the matter at hand."